ON HIATUS Curiosity Killed the Cat
by Coltan Heart
Summary: Lizzie and Edwin are well known for spying. Wait, I mean researching. What if they discovered that Derek had feelings for Casey and she read all about it? How would Derek act when he realized that she knew and there was nothing to lose?
1. Mission Impossible

_Chapter 1 – Mission Impossible?_

"No, we can't tell them! Do you have any idea how large of an impact this would have on their lives—all our lives?" Edwin argued passionately. I crept closer to the door to the games' closet and pressed myself along the wall beside it.

"But Casey has to know. What if she feels the same way? What if—" Lizzie was interrupted.

"No! It could only end badly," Edwin insisted. "In the best case scenario, they would get together and," Edwin trailed off. "Well, actually, this is the best case scenario. No one knows. No one gets hurt." There was a pause and then the door swung open, almost hitting me. But I pushed closer to the wall and Lizzie and Edwin walked away without ever noticing that I was there.

What was that all about? It was time for me to do some spying of my own. Or…observing—as Edwin preferred to call it.

I followed Lizzie and Edwin around a bit for a few days—hoping that I would find some information. But, as my luck would have it, it was a big waste of time.

I was sitting at my desk, finishing up some math calculations when something occurred to me—the binder. Surely, whatever they knew had been observed and "researched"—which meant that there would be notes about it in the big three-ring binder that Edwin toted around with him almost everywhere. So, my first task was to get it away from him. But how?

After spending an hour contemplating my options—and deciding that none of them worked, I decided to consult a professional.

* * *

Breezing into Derek's room without permission—it was important—I received a not-so-nice look from my stepbrother, who was sitting on his bed and strumming his guitar.

"You know, they say that being a good example is the best way to teach someone something," Derek quipped, referring to my policy about knocking—one that he had yet to pick up on.

"They also say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery," I replied without missing a beat. He grinned, leaning on his guitar.

"I always knew that you secretly idolized me."

"I have a shrine in my closet and everything."

"Not that I don't enjoy our witty rapport," I raised my eyebrow. "Oh, don't give me that look. You and I both know that I have at least an eighth grader's vocabulary." I smiled and he continued, "But, I know that you must want something from me. The only question is what?" He paused. "And is there something in it for me?"

"I need your advice," I answered, interlacing my fingers together. Derek considered it.

"On the one hand—there's obviously nothing in it for me," He pointed out. I was about to say something, but he cut me off. "On the other hand, you almost never come to me for wisdom. So—what the hell? If you can name one professional hockey team—I'll give you my sagely advice," he offered. I sighed.

"You're difficult. Do you know that?" I said with annoyance. Why couldn't he ever just help someone for the sake of helping them? Why did there always have to be a catch or something in it for him?

"Make that two." He grinned cheekily. I all but growled at him. Okay, think. You're Canadian. Surely you can name just two professional hockey teams. You've had to watch about a thousand games with Derek before. Just think

"The Oilers." He nodded affirmatively. And some kind of leaves. There was one that had "leaves" in it, but what kind of leaves. Maple? I think it was Maple. "And the Maple Leafs?"

"Ding ding ding. Give the lady a prize!" He exclaimed mockingly. "You have my ear."

"Well, I overheard a conversation between Edwin and Lizzie the other day and it had something to do with me. I could tell that it was about something big, but I didn't know what." He nodded to indicate that he was paying attention. "So, I followed them around a bit, trying to figure out what they were hiding. But it was to no avail. I didn't get any more information."

"So you want me to snoop for you?" He asked incredulously.

"No! That would require actual work—which I know not to expect from you."

"Damn straight," he muttered. "I am not a lackey. Other people are my lackeys," Derek added for emphasis. I rolled my eyes. Not to say that I never asked Lizzie for favors, but it was almost cruel the way he used his siblings.

"Anyway, I decided that if I wanted information, I should go to the source," I informed him.

"Me?"

"No—the binder. That's where they write everything down." I paused and sighed. "The only problem is that Edwin practically has the thing chained to his ankle."

"Right," Derek agreed. "So you want me to tell you how to get it away from him?" He asked. I nodded and he cackled, placing his hands behind his head. "Oh, come on, Case! That's easy!" Derek chided arrogantly.

"Really? What's the plan then?" I challenged him. He rose to his feet and stood over me.

"What you need is a distraction," Derek replied effortlessly. "And you're lucky enough to have an eight-year-old girl at your disposal." I thought about it. He was right. Who better to be a distraction than Marti? It was genius!

"Wait! But what if she spills the beans?" I inquired. He thought about it for a moment.

"Well, if that should happen, you'll probably have gotten what you wanted by then. Just take the binder and sneak into the bathroom or something so you can lock the door," He advised, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. Rising, I gave him a big smile.

"I have to admit—you do know how to scheme," I confessed. He shrugged, feigning modesty.

"Well, I am the best." He opened the door. "Now shoo! I don't have all day to spend on you, Charity Case," Derek teased, putting his hand on the small of my back and guiding me out of his room. The door closed behind me and I laughed—thinking about things had changed since we were first forced into each other's lives. We still bickered and made fun of each other, but it was much friendlier most of the time. Of course, we still had our moments.

* * *

"Derek Venturi, what the hell is your problem?" I yelled, slamming the front door behind me before marching over to the recliner where Derek was relaxing.

"My ugly stepsister?" He quipped. I kicked the chair, rattling him.

"Try again," I growled venomously, crossing my arms in front of me.

"You'll have to be more specific."

"Why did you tell Jimmy that I thought he was a jerk when you knew that I liked him?" I demanded crossly.

"'Cause Jimmy's a douche-bag," Derek justified—not looking sorry one bit.

"He is not!" I ranted defensively. "He's a nice boy and the first one to come close to asking me out after things with Sam went south!" Tears stung my eyes. "Why do you ruin everything?" His face fell and his expression softened.

"Casey," he started, standing up. I backed away.

"No. I've changed my mind. I don't care why. Just stay out of my life!" I shouted, shoving him backward into his chair before running up to my room.

* * *

He had apologized later, but refused to fix things with Jimmy. He stood by his previous statement. But, I explained things to Jimmy and we went out anyway. And Derek was wrong. Jimmy was a perfect gentleman. Well, until he came on to Emily after we'd been going out for three weeks.

And Sam—sweet Sam—decked him in the name of my honor. I didn't approve of violence as a solution to a problem—or even as a punishment in most cases—but it was still sweet and very uncharacteristic of my ex-boyfriend.

* * *

After thinking it over, I approached Marti to ask for her help. My sister quickly agreed and listened carefully to the instructions that I gave to her.

Then I sent Marti downstairs, waited five minutes, and followed her. As I expected, Edwin was sitting at the island counter, eating a snack and looking through his research. I hid from view—staying close to the kitchen and signaled to Marti to start. The small brunette grabbed the family's favorite video game, Babe Raider, and held it up high in the air.

"I want to play! I want to play!" She screeched. This caught Edwin's attention and he raced into the living room. She ran away from him.

"Marti, no! You don't want to play with that," Edwin insisted, chasing her around the living room as I sneaked into the kitchen.

"Yes I do!" She enthused stubbornly. I grabbed the binder and tucked it under my arm as I calmly walked upstairs without even registering on Edwin's radar.

Once I was out of view, I ran into the bathroom and locked the door. Then I put the toilet seat down and sat on it, opening up the binder in my lap. There were brightly colored tabs with the names of different subjects on them.

"How convenient," I said appreciatively. My eyes skimmed the tabs, looking for one that might indicate that I was involved. Then I saw one that said "Dasey" and paused. It was spelled wrong. Curious, I opened to that section. Lizzie and Edwin are both really smart. Why would they have trouble spelling a simple little word like "daisy"?

* * *

DASEY

_September 25, 2005:_ Casey had trouble at school. She fell down the stairs and people—Derek—started calling her Klutzilla. Everyone kept teasing her and after a plea from Lizzie, Derek got people to lay off of Casey. Also, Derek accused Casey of having feelings for Sam and told her to back off. Why does he mind so much?

_October 2, 2005:_ When Derek hosted a party while Mom and Dad were gone, the pair got stuck in the bathroom and was acting chummy. Casey stuck up for Derek against Mom and Dad—sharing in the blame.

_October 16, 2005:_ Derek and Casey came together to stop Mom and Dad's fighting. Derek actually agreed with Casey—very strange indeed.

_October 23, 2005:_ Derek and Casey worked together on a school project. Casey broke down and helped Derek—at the cost of her reputation. He returned the favor by keeping other people from calling her "Grade Grubber".

_October 30, 2005:_ When Casey quit as the wedding planner, Derek took over and helped out. We think his claims of doing it for his movie were a load of bull. Then, there's the fact that Victoria, Casey's cousin that Derek made out with, looks a lot like Casey. Coincidence?

_November 6, 2005:_ Derek asked Casey to help him with his business while he was out sick. When she got caught and got in trouble, he called in a favor with Frank and got him to take the blame.

* * *

How did they know all of that stuff? Did they have hidden video cameras all over the place or something—maybe people tailing us? And then it dawned on me. "Dasey" was "Derek" and "Casey" put together. _But why? _

* * *

_December 4, 2005:_ Derek acts weird after Sandra asks him if Casey is his girlfriend. We covertly caught him staring at her several times.

_December 11, 2005:_ Derek admitted to Edwin that he actually felt bad about hurting Casey's ankle. He didn't entirely take the blame—or actually admit that he was at fault—but he coerced Edwin into doing favors for her and persuaded a kid at school to buy a bear for her without saying that Derek had anything to do with it.

_December 18, 2005:_ We caught Derek staring at Casey again when she dressed up like Babe Raider. He couldn't seem to keep his eyes off of her. He also got upset when he found out that she had been getting closer to Sam. We're starting to suspect that Derek has a crush on Casey.

_December 25, 2005:_ Derek asked Lizzie for advice about what to get Casey for Christmas. For some reason, possibly that he likes her, he wanted to get her something special. He actually ended up getting her a package of socks, but Lizzie swore that she saw him tuck away a DVD of "The Notebook"—one of Casey's favorite movies.

_December 31, 2005:_ Derek tried really hard to get Casey to go with him to a New Year's Eve party at school. She went and spent a lot of time talking to Sam. Once again, Derek was _not _happy. We think he's jealous.

_January 22, 2006:_ Sam and Casey express an interest in each other—but not to each other—and Derek tries really hard to keep them apart. He even invents something he calls "The Male Code" that says that you can't date your best friend's sibling—or stepsiblings. They end up wrestling in the living room and Casey yells at them. Then, for some strange reason, Derek changes his mind and gives permission for Sam to date her—but still looks unhappy about it.

_February 22, 2006:_ Derek goes out with Emily to bother Casey. We suspect that he was also trying to make her jealous. Casey followed him to the restaurant—poorly disguised—and interrupted the evening, forsaking her one-month anniversary with Sam to do so. Was it true friendship to Emily or jealousy?

* * *

_Hey!_ I only went because I was concerned about Emily. I wasn't jealous. The idea was ridiculous. And that was a good disguise for the spur of the moment! I was lucky to have a wig and trench coat on hand…

* * *

_March 7, 2006:_ When Sam and Casey broke up for good, Derek worked with Emily to try to get them back together so that he could go to Sweden. We thought that he didn't catch us observing, but he once glanced at us and didn't say anything. It was almost as if he wanted to fail—keeping Sam and Casey apart.

_March 15, 2006:_ Casey persuaded Derek to run for school president and helped him until he decided to turn it into a smear campaign against his competitor. Then Casey ran too and she accidentally betrayed Derek and told Sheldon about Derek's shameful secret. She tried to make up for it the next day, but—in the end—no one cared and all was forgiven.

_March 24, 2006: _Derek's band needed a lead singer for the Clash of the Bands. When Edwin showed him how well Casey could sing, he agreed that she was perfect for the part. We worked out a contract between the two and Casey joined D-rock. Derek was hostile towards Ralph after he made the sexist quote about Casey, though he pretended like he was just grossed out. In the video that we saw of the performance, the pair looked awfully close—dancing together while they performed. We're beginning to suspect that whatever is going on between them is fully reciprocated. The real question is what exactly that entails and whether or not the pair is aware of it.

_April 10, 2006:_ Derek works really hard to help Casey lie about her science project. On this note, Derek seems to be more than willing to help Casey on any occasion that she seems to need it. When they had to work on a makeup project after Mrs. Pummelman caught them, Derek even helped with the work—though Casey had to nag him about it.

_April 21, 2006: _When Lizzie's soccer coach asked out Casey, he seemed to be fine with it—until he found out that the guy was a scum bag. Then, when he realized that Casey was going to keep seeing him, he started going stir crazy. He assumed that it was guilt that he was feeling—and it was—but he was definitely jealous as well—though he didn't seem to notice. Edwin really picked up on the resentment when Derek confessed his guilty feelings, but he saw it even before when Derek was sneering about him at breakfast that morning.

_April 30, 2006:_ Derek pranks Casey and doesn't mind when she wears his shirt to school. Lizzie later saw him smile adoringly at her while she was wearing it. He definitely has some serious feelings for her.

* * *

_Could it be? Does Derek really have feelings for me? And, if he does, just how serious are they? Is he just crushing on me—though that would be a really long time for a crush to last—or is it something more? Could he even—no. That's ridiculous_. I turned the page and noticed that there was a different format for the next day. And, it was much longer than every page before it had been.

* * *

_May 08, 2006_

Derek called Edwin into his room—looking frantic and disturbed.

Derek: Edwin, sit. (he complied)

Edwin: (confused) What's going on, Derek? You don't look so good.

Derek: (pacing) I don't feel so good. (stops and leans over Edwin threateningly) Edwin, what I'm about to tell you can never leave this room. If I ever find out that it has, I will bury you, got it?

Edwin: (nodded)

Derek: Okay. (pauses thoughtfully and then continues pacing) I feel sick.

Edwin: And…?

Derek: I can't stop thinking about this girl.

Edwin: (intrigued) What girl?

Derek: (defensive) Just a girl! (calms down and clears his throat) Anyway, the point is that I can't get her out of my head. And whenever she's around, I can't take my eyes off of her. And I can't stand to see her with other guys and—

Edwin: So why haven't you asked her out already?

Derek: It's complicated.

Long pause.

Edwin: (sighs) Derek, I know that you're talking about Casey.

Derek: (incredulous) What? No! That's…that's. (drops the act) That's right. How did you know?

Edwin: To the careful observer, it's obvious. Plus, Lizzie and I are watching everything.

Derek: How?

Edwin: We have our sources.

Derek: Wait, "observer"? (angrily grabs Edwin's collar) Are any of these observations in that binder of yours, Ed?

Edwin: No, of course not! (Derek is satiated and lets him go, becoming calm again)

Derek: (defeated) So what do I do?

Edwin: Well, the way I look at it, you have two options. Either, you could tell her and risk rejection or you could go on pretending that she's just a stepsister to you.

Derek: (puts his head in his hands and sighs) What do you recommend?

Edwin: That depends. Just exactly how do you feel about Casey?

Derek: (fidgets uncomfortably) I don't know. (Edwin gives him a pointed look) I really like her…or something.

Edwin: So you're not in love with her?

Derek: (scoffs) Love? No.

Edwin: Then you should leave things as they are.

Edwin's Notes: I don't believe him when he says that he doesn't love her. I think he does. Maybe he doesn't know it yet, but I'd say that it much more than just an attraction or _even_ an infatuation.

* * *

My eyes bulged out of their sockets. _It's impossible! Derek can't be…in love with me?_ Wouldn't he have asked me out already if that were true? But then there's that whole kind of incestuous thing. _Edwin must be mistaken. Maybe he just has a crush on me. _I buried my head in my hands. _My stepbrother has feelings for me!_

The door rattled and fists banged on it from the other side.

"Casey! Give me back my binder! And whatever you do—don't read it!" Edwin cried desperately from the other side. I rolled my eyes. _Could he be any more obvious?_ I decided that I had read enough and stood up, smoothing out my clothing. Then I took a minute to compose myself—it wasn't every day that you found out that your stepsibling had romantic notions about you—and opened the door.

"Take it," I said dismissively, handing the binder over. Edwin clung to it greedily, looking happy and terrified at the same time.

"You didn't read anything in it, did you?" Edwin asked suspiciously. I ignored him, walked into my room, and shut the door behind me. Thankfully, he didn't follow me.

I flopped down onto my bed. Nothing good could come of this. Then my door flew open and Derek strode inside with a smug air about him. My eyes popped open and my eyebrows shot up. Derek's expression changed, looking puzzled, as he plopped down into my computer chair and scooted it up to the bed—leaning his chin on his hands.

"What's with the face?" He asked.

"Nothing," I squeaked, failing miserably at lying convincingly.

"Uh huh. Right," Derek replied—not believing me. "Whatever it is—I don't really care." I scoffed. _How sensitive of you, Der. _"But, I want to see that binder," he added. My eyes bugged out again.

"What? Why?" I protested in a very strained, very high-pitched voice.

"So all this weirdness has to do with something in the binder," Derek realized, grinning.

"No," I lied weakly.

"Oh come on, Case. I taught you better than that," Derek chided, looking ashamed of me. "Even a three-year old would see right through this." Then something dawned on him. "So whatever this secret is, it must be really good."

"No! It's not the least bit interesting!" I cried defensively, cringing. Derek jumped to his feet, an excited air about him.

"Sure it isn't. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get my hands on that notebook," Derek called over his shoulder as he walked out of my room.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I don't own "Life With Derek" or any of its characters.

**A/N:** First off, I hope that I stayed pretty in character for everyone. For some reason, it seems really hard for me for this show. Second, the dates in the research binder started off with the original airdates of the stuff described in each episode (except for the stuff that was made up). Thirdly, I made a fake trailer for LWD that goes along with the idea that this story is made from, so you might want to check it out. Please read and review! I openly welcome (and ask for, really) constructive criticism!


	2. I Ran So Far Away

**Disclaimer:** I do not own "Life With Derek" or any of its characters.

**A/N:** Oh my gosh! squeals happily Such a lovely response! I checked on it periodically throughout the first day and at one point I took a nap (I'm a college freshman—naps are vital) and woke up to 5 brand new reviews. I literally did the uber-happy squealing thing. Lol. I am _so_ happy about the wonderful response that I've gotten to this story.

Note: I've decided to use song titles for my chapter headings. This one is by A Flock Of Seagulls. Hehe. It's an oldie, but a goodie.

* * *

**Curiosity Killed the Cat**

_Chapter 2 – I Ran (So Far Away)  
_

"Wait!" I yelled, jumping up and following him. "How are you going to get it?" I asked, hoping to deter him. I just had to think. _How can I stop him from getting that binder without telling him what's in it?_ Derek chuckled.

"Casey, I don't have to use my brains for this one. Edwin is my little brother. All _I_ need to get the binder is brute force," Derek answered smugly. Then he turned around and stood at the foot of the stairs. "Ed! Front and center!" Derek summoned. I huffed indignantly as Edwin—of course—came running up the stairs.

"Edwin, he wants to read your research!" I warned him, stopping him in his tracks.

"What? No way!" Edwin retorted, backing up. I smiled, proud of the little guy. At least he had _some_ boundaries.

"Ed, you have until the count of five to give me that binder. One…two…three," Derek was cut off as Edwin fled the scene. "Hey! Get back here!" Derek ran after his little brother, following him right out the front door.

I walked down stairs and started pacing back and forth in the living room. Derek was bound to catch him. All that hockey training had gotten him in tip-top shape. But then, Edwin had an awful lot of practice running and hiding from his older brother. I sighed with frustration and plopped down on the couch. _Whether he catches him or not, Derek's _bound_ to find out sooner or later. What am I going to do when he does?_ I didn't have an answer for that particular question. So, I turned on one of my favorite shows and got comfortable.

About fifteen or twenty minutes later, Derek stormed inside of the house looking pissed. He was red-faced—probably from the chase—wild-eyed, smattered with dirt, and his clothes were not only rumpled—but they were even torn in some places. He walked over and dropped into his chair.

"Edwin is a dead man," he announced angrily, snatching up the remote and changing it to a hockey game. I scowled at him.

"I was watching that!" I objected, leaning over to take back the remote. He held it out of my reach. I cringed when I got a strong whiff of body odor. "And you need a shower!"

"Not at all. Chicks dig the sweaty look, remember?" Derek bragged. I huffed angrily and was about to wrestle it from his grip, when I suddenly remembered the crush—_and_ got another whiff of _Derek au natural_. The combination stopped me in my tracks.

"Whatever," I muttered as if I didn't care. Derek turned to look at me. I saw him raise an eyebrow out of the corner of my eye and shifted nervously. "What? I don't feel like stooping to your level today," I explained. Derek rose from his chair and stood in front of me, arms crossed.

"_Something_ is going on," Derek uttered suspiciously, "and I'm _going_ to find out what it is." He paused and leaned toward me. "So, you might as well just 'fess up." I scooted away and let out a nervous giggle as he placed his hands on the couch on either side of me—effectively trapping me. As I let out a breath that I hadn't realized that I had been holding, I inhaled and cringed.

"I'm trapped in a wall of stench!" I whined pitifully, trying to crawl over the back of the couch. Derek grinned mercilessly.

"And it's going to stay that way 'til you sing, canary," Derek said, moving closer. My face scrunched up even tighter. _Must…have…fresh…air!_

"Derek, if you don't move…"

"You'll what?" He asked, eyes alight with mischief as he leaned closer.

"This is your last chance," I warned him, praying that he wouldn't make me do it.

"If this is how you intimidate people, I have to tell you that you suck royally at it," Derek jeered, angering me further. It was time to use his weakness against him—even though I considered it to be fighting dirty. After all, he was most certainly fighting dirty—using his foul body odor to torture me.

I lunged forward, wincing in disgust as I tickled his sweaty, sticky sides. Derek held fast for about five seconds before he crumpled to the floor, laughing hysterically. I crouched beside him—digging my fingers into all of his weak spots.

"Oh! Casey! Please!" He choked out between laughs, trying to roll away from me.

"Say uncle!" I fired back, following him. Sure, I had gotten what I wanted: an out, but I felt the need to not only best my adversary—but to make him admit it.

"Never!" He cried defiantly, writhing around on the ground, trying not to hit or kick me. His laughter brought Marti out of her room.

"I want to play!" she yelled out happily.

"Smarti! No! Get Casey!" Derek instructed desperately.

"No, Marti! The name of the game is 'Tickle Derek', not 'Tickle Casey'," I interjected sneakily. Derek tried to give me a dirty look—which was impossible since he was grinning from ear to ear.

"Okay!" she enthused, skipping down the stairs and running to my side.

"Smarti, no!" Derek objected miserably.

"Smerek, yes!" Marti exclaimed, joining me in torturing Derek.

"Just say uncle and we'll stop," I taunted as my fingers danced along his sides.

"Nothing doing!" He gasped, swatting at us helplessly.

"Say it! Say it! Say it!" Marti chanted exuberantly. He groaned.

"All right!" He conceded. Then he paused before grumbling, "Uncle."

"What?" I asked, putting my hand to my ear. "What was that?"

"Uncle," he growled through gritted teeth. Marti and I stopped tickling him and he sat up quickly, brushing himself off as if that would restore his dignity.

"I'm going to get you for this," he promised, standing up and jogging upstairs—ruffling Marti's hair as he passed her. I laughed.

"I can take whatever you can dish, Derek Venturi!" I called after him, picking up Marti and setting her on the couch. She giggled and I settled in beside her, handing her the remote so that she could pick a show.

* * *

At dinner that night, Edwin was nowhere to be found. I didn't see him come home and since he wasn't at the table, I assumed that he never had. _Did he go to the states or something?_ I gasped inaudibly. What if Derek had found him? I looked across the table at where my stepbrother was sitting. _Nope. He still looks mad. If he'd caught Edwin, he'd be smiling._ Then something occurred to me. _Unless he knows about the "Dasey" notes! Oh no! But wouldn't he be freaking out?_

Just then, the phone rang and Mom hopped up to get it—beating Derek to the punch.

"Hello?" She paused. Then a smile graced her features. "Yes, Edwin, you can stay at the Brown's tonight. Do you need anything?" She paused. I glanced at Derek. He was furious. "Uh huh. I'll bring it over after dinner." Derek gave me a nasty look as if it was _my_ fault that Edwin had gotten away. _Oh, wait. It was._ I smiled nervously and he turned his attention back to his food. "Your welcome. Good bye." Mom hung up the phone and sat back down to dinner. I almost laughed out loud. Edwin had done a good job of avoiding Derek for tonight, but he _had_ to come home sometime. Was he hoping that everything would blow over by then?

"Smerek, will you take me to the park after school tomorrow?" Marti asked sweetly before swallowing a spoonful of peas. Derek's face softened and he smiled at her.

"Sure, Smarti. Right after practice," Derek consented, ruffling her hair.

"Yay!" she cheered excitedly, pumping her arms in the air. "Can Casey come too?" she asked, jutting out her bottom lip.

"I don't know. You'll have to ask her," Derek answered, glancing at me. I tried to discern whether or not he wanted me to go, but couldn't figure it out. So I decided to do what came naturally and indulged the little girl. Well, it was natural when she was sweet. When she was bratty…well, that was a different story.

"Sure. I'd love to."

"Hooray!" she exclaimed, accidentally flinging a spoonful of applesauce up into the air. A few drops splattered the close members of the table but most of it landed in Derek's hair. The rest of the table laughed uproariously as Derek tried frantically to get all of it out of his hair with a napkin. Derek scowled at them—except for Marti—and stood up.

"I'm going to take a shower and get this goop out," he mumbled angrily, storming off. I laughed longer than anyone else, picturing Derek with applesauce in his hair. It was _priceless_! I silently praised Marti for her mistake and wished longingly that I had captured the moment on tape. _I will cherish this moment in my heart forever._ The smile didn't leave my face for the whole meal and every now and then I giggled, imagining Derek grumbling curses under his breath as he tried to wash the applesauce out of his hair. _Wait a second. I just pictured my stepbrother in the shower! Ewww!_ I choked on my water and set it down on the table, excusing myself to my room. _But I didn't think about anything below the shoulders, so it's not bad, right?_

Shuddering, I hiked upstairs and was surprised when I ran into Derek's naked torso. My cheeks flushed, thinking about Derek's feelings for me and my previous thoughts.

"Like what you see?" He teased, posing to show off his muscles, which I duly noted that he had in spades—for a teenage boy. _Wait! This is _Derek, _not some Abercrombie and Fitch model. Stop staring at him!_ _And make a witty retort for heaven's sake!_

"Not really. I must say that you're quite lacking in the muscular department," I lied. "I like them big and buff and you're just not up to snuff." His eyes darkened. I smiled condescendingly as I gave him a once-over and laughed. The insult was pathetic at best, but it seemed to have the desired effect. Of course, the truth was that I liked them lean and muscled—just like Derek really. I didn't have a problem with his body—it was the rest of him that put me off—particularly the part about our parents being married.

"Then why are you staring?" He asked cockily. I snorted.

"I'm not. Your chest just happens to be in my face." My face contorted into a grimace. "Would you mind putting something on? I'm getting nauseous," I complained. _Ok, not really, but I _should _be_.

"Funny, that's the exact same feeling that _I_ get whenever I have to look at you," Derek sniped. It wasn't exactly original. He could do better than that. Why wasn't he? Then I saw it. He was hurt. For a split second he had the exact same look on his face that he had when I told him that Kendra didn't like him. Hey! Earth to Space Case!" Derek jabbed with annoyance.

"Huh? I'm sorry, what were you saying?" I asked, trying to remember what we had been talking about. _Did I really just see that? Am I _really _hurting his feelings?_ Derek gave me a strange look.

"We were fighting," he answered, looking confused.

"Oh…right. Well, I have better things to do. See you later." I walked around him and into my room, closing the door behind me. I sighed, pulling a work out tape from my shelf. If I didn't stop acting strange, Derek was never going to forget about the binder—which would mean that he would find what was inside of it. And I couldn't let that happen.

* * *

The next day, I tiptoed around, trying to avoid my all-too-clever stepbrother. I kept inadvertently sending up red flags of weirdness and he was more than capable of picking up on them. If only I could distract him somehow. 

A light bulb clicked on in my head. _Of course!_ All I had to do was create some kind of side project for him that would take precedence over the current situation. _It shouldn't be too hard since he doesn't know just how big of a deal this whole binder thing is. _But—if I were going to throw Derek off of the scent—I would need help.

* * *

"Lizzie!" I called, knocking on my younger sister's door. 

"Come in!" I opened the door and walked inside, totally unprepared for the sight before me.

"Lizzie?" I exclaimed incredulously. My eyes scanned the room in disbelief. "When did my precious little sister turn into a…a total slob?" It was horrifying. Dirty laundry littered the floor. Books and CDs were scattered all over the place. Paper plates were shoved recklessly under her bed and crumbs had been ground into the carpet. My nose wrinkled in disgust. "And _what_ is that smell?"

"It's Derek!" Lizzie shouted angrily. I raised an eyebrow.

"Really? I don't see him," I replied, looking around the room for my very well concealed stepbrother. "But I _do_ smell him," I commented snarkily—grinning at my wit. Lizzie sighed in exasperation.

"He isn't _here_, but he _was_ here!" Lizzie corrected me, stomping over to her lamp and pulling one of her bras off of it. I immediately understood what had happened. What I didn't know was why.

"Why would Derek trash your room?" I asked picking up a pizza crust and depositing it in the trash. Lizzie shook her head.

"I don't know!" She exclaimed, frowning as she pulled all of the trash out from under her bed.

"Normally I'd assume that he was just being a jerk, but if that were true than it would be _my_ room that was trashed," I commented, sorting things out in my head. "Have you done anything that upset him lately?" I asked, trying to get to the bottom of things.

"No," she answered defensively. I sat on her bed and Lizzie joined me. We flopped backwards, deep in thought.

"Edwin!" Lizzie cried suddenly, jumping up.

"What about him?" I asked, sitting up on her bed—waiting for an explanation.

"Derek's trying to get me to make Edwin come back!" Lizzie realized. I gasped. _Of course!_

"But you can't!" I objected.

"I wouldn't. Edwin's my brother and my best friend," Lizzie responded, confusion apparent in her features. "But why are _you_ so desperate to help him get away?" she asked suspiciously.

"Umm…I want to stick it to Derek?" I lied lamely. She didn't buy it. I sighed. "Ok, so I'm looking out for my own interests." She sat down.

"Just as I expected." I flopped backwards, frowning. Was I really so selfish? "No offense," she added quickly, seeing my expression.

"Thanks," I muttered. Then suddenly her eyebrows shot up.

"You—you had the binder," she remembered. I nodded. "And—you read part of it, didn't you?" I covered my eyes in shame and nodded again. "You read the Dasey file, didn't you?" she asked accusatorily. I nodded vigorously. "No!"

"Yes!" I exclaimed, shooting up and pacing back and forth across her room. "And now I know that Derek has feelings for me," I said miserably. Lizzie stumbled backwards and sat down on her bed. "And I keep acting weird around him—and, you know, who wouldn't? But the point is that he's bound to find out and—when he does—the world as we know it will erupt into total chaos!" I ranted hysterically. Lizzie shushed me and jumped up. She grabbed my shoulders—stopping my pacing.

"Breathe!" Lizzie instructed, taking a deep breath herself. I relaxed my muscles and complied. _Well, that's a little better._

"I'm sorry, Lizzie, but how could I _not_ freak out?" I whispered urgently. "Derek has a _crush_ on me!" I exclaimed at the same volume. Lizzie raised an eyebrow.

"No, Casey. Derek is _in love_ with you," she corrected me. I whimpered and plunked down onto her bed. My sister dropped to the bed beside me.

"Don't say that," I entreated her pathetically. "The fact that Derek has any romantic notions about me whatsoever is bad enough. Don't tell me that I'm going to have to break his heart." As much as I hated him, I loved him too—in a platonic way. I didn't want to hurt him like that.

"Think what you want, but you're going to have to face the facts sooner or later," Lizzie replied mercilessly. I pouted childishly.

"How can you be so harsh?" I inquired.

"I learned from the best," she responded matter-of-factly. My expression must have showed that my feelings were hurt because she immediately said, "I meant Derek!"

"Oh." I sulked for a moment, letting myself wallow in self-pity. Then I turned to Lizzie and asked, "So what do I do when he finds out that I know?" Lizzie sat still, deep in thought.

"You mean if Derek isn't in jail doing twenty to life for murdering his own brother?" she joked, trying to lighten the mood. I cracked a smile, but it quickly dissipated back into a frown. My younger sister sighed. "I don't know. The best way to handle the situation is to make sure that he _doesn't_ find out."

"I know," I agreed. "But how do we do that? Edwin _can't_ hide out forever." Something struck her and Lizzie burst into a wide grin.

"He doesn't have to!" she exclaimed, jumping up and facing me. "All we have to do is destroy the Dasey file!"

"You're right!" I enthused, jumping up beside her. "All we have to do is call Edwin, tell him to destroy that section, and Derek will never know!" I sighed with satisfaction, feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I didn't feel helpless anymore. I had a plan.

"I'll call Edwin right away," Lizzie promised, ushering me out of the room.

"Why can't I hear?" I asked, confused.

"You already know more than you should. Do you _really_ want to keep asking questions or are you going to trust me?" Lizzie countered patiently. I frowned and complied, heading downstairs for a snack where I—naturally—ran into Derek.

"Wouldn't it be so much easier if you just _lived_ in the kitchen?" I quipped, bumping him aside to reach into the fridge and grab an orange.

"Uh—yeah," he muttered distractedly, moving away from me. _What?_ Where was the witty retort, or ill-conceived insult, or crack about me gaining weight? He reached into the pantry and grabbed a bag of chips, then turned and smirked at me. "Oh, by the way, nice hip check. It really helps when you put your weight into it." _Hmm, that sounds suspiciously like a compliment. Surely there's more. Or maybe there was a hidden insult that I just missed._ "Of course, it also helps when you have so much weight _to_ put into it," Derek added, laughing at his poorly contrived jab.

"Well you have to give me credit for hiding my elephant-like proportions so well," I retorted sarcastically. I had gotten rather used to the fat jokes and knew that he didn't think that I was fat at all. So it didn't really bother me anymore.

"Indeed. It's a miracle what you can do with the right underwear."

"And you know _so_ much about women's underwear, don't you, _Der_?" I had meant it to be an insult, but _he_—of course—took it the wrong way. His face lit up. "And, might I add, those control top pantyhose are working _wonders_ for your butt," I added quickly, cutting off his assuredly perverted response.

"So you've been checking out my butt, have you?" He fired back without missing a beat.

"How could I not?" Derek smirked. "It's impossible to ignore something that big," I sneered, grabbing my snack and taking it into the living room. Derek followed me and plopped down into his recliner just after I secured the remote and a good spot on the couch. My stepbrother snapped, gesturing for me to hand over the remote. I laughed.

"Forget about it, Derek. _I_ was here first," I said without any pity, turning on the television and changing it to "Gilmore Girls".

"Too bad. There's a hockey game on." Derek reached over to take it from my hand, but I held it out of his reach.

"How tragic!" I quipped sarcastically. "_Maybe_ you should've thought about that before you trashed Lizzie's room!" I shouted, scooting away from him.

"Like you didn't help her clean it up," Derek muttered nonchalantly, rolling his eyes.

"I shouldn't have _had_ to!" I shot back defensively.

"She shouldn't have teamed up with Edwin," Derek commented matter-of-factly. I glared at him.

"_That's_ your justification?" I asked incredulously.

"No, because the word 'justification' implies that I did something wrong, which I didn't," Derek argued. I jumped up from the couch and turned to face him.

"You can't just step all over people like that!"

"Um—actually—I can," Derek replied smugly. "You get in my way, you better be prepared to face the consequences."

"Derek, you are the most _infuriating_ person that I have ever met!" I yelled, clenching my fists, overwhelmed with the urge to hit him.

"What else is new?" He grabbed the remote from the couch, where I had dropped it. "Now, do you mind moving? You're kind of blocking the TV," Derek requested condescendingly, gesturing for me to scoot. I growled in frustration, picked up a pillow, and chucked it at his head. He chuckled and the sounds of a hockey game drifted into my ears as I stormed off

* * *

I was lying on my bed, writing in my journal, when Lizzie knocked on my door and asked to come in. I called for her to wait a minute, hid the book, and picked up a collection of Elizabeth Browning's poetry. 

"Come in!" I called opening the book to a random page. Lizzie walked inside and closed the door behind her. "What's up?" I closed the book and set it down on my bookshelf.

"Well, I called Edwin," Lizzie told me, sitting down on my bed.

"Is he going to go through with the plan?" I asked eagerly. She nodded.

"He's not happy about it though," Liz confessed. I nodded, feeling bad for the kid. Then I remembered that the two little weasels had been spying on me.

"Well, he _should_ destroy it. You two are far too sneaky for your own good," I chided. My sister hung her head a bit and I softened. "Why _did_ you guys decide to spy on us?" I asked curiously.

"Well, we started to notice something fishy going on. So we started gathering information," Lizzie started. She swallowed and admitted, "We were curious." _You know, I'm starting to believe all those things they say about curiosity being dangerous._ "When we realized that Derek had a crush on you, we thought that if we kept an eye on things, we might be able to do some damage control." That one surprised me. They were actually trying to help.

"But _my_ curiosity ruined everything," I added morosely. Lizzie gave me a sympathetic look.

"It's okay, Case. We can still do some damage control," she reminded me. "You just have to live with knowing that the way that Derek thinks about you isn't exactly stepbrotherly." I groaned.

"You couldn't have devised a better punishment yourself," I complained. But it was my own fault. I made my bed and I would just have to lie in it—even if it _was_ made of pins and needles.

"So what are we going to do about Derek? He's still going to want to look in that binder," I pointed out. Lizzie paused to think. "He'd be awfully suspicious if Edwin just handed it over," I added.

"So we have to pretend that the information is still in there," Lizzie reasoned. "We'll get Edwin to come home, he'll act naturally, and Derek will get the binder." She cringed, probably thinking about Derek looking through all of their research. Or, she might've been considering the ways that Derek was going to torture Edwin to get it. I shuddered, pitying my younger stepbrother. But a part of me felt that it was payback for all of that spying he had done.

* * *

"Edwin! My favorite little bro!" Derek greeted with false excitement. I turned and saw Edwin drop his bag on the floor before he took off upstairs. "Oh no you don't!" Derek was hot on his heels and a loud cry of anguish told me that he didn't make it to the safety of his room. 

"Help!" Edwin cried desperately, struggling as Derek pulled him towards his own room. I felt sorry for the guy, but things had to take their course. So I let Derek drag him into his room and slam the door behind him. I turned back to my reading and settled further into the couch. _Here goes everything._


	3. Don't Talk

**Disclaimer:** I do not own "Life With Derek" or any of its characters. Nor do I own "Don't Talk" by Vanessa Hudgens.

**A/N:** Wow, that's a really long time between updates, huh? Heh. Sorry. I picked this one back up though and thought that before I even considered starting another LWD chapter story, that I owed to all of my readers to finish this one first. And I got back into it after re-reading it. So, here you go!

**Curiosity Killed the Cat **

_Chapter 3 - Don't Talk_

"You _what_?!" My head snapped up when I heard the undignified shriek from Derek. I immediately feared the worst. _He must have tortured Edwin into confessing!_ I quickly snapped my book shut and ran upstairs to cower in my room, but Derek's door flew open just as I was passing it. He was gripping Edwin tightly by the back of his shirt collar and his eyes flashed when he saw me standing in front of him. "You: out," Derek commanded, shoving his little brother out the door. "You," he grabbed my wrist, "in."

"Actually, I—" Derek ignored the words coming out of my mouth and pulled me into his room, closing the door behind him. I paled. My heart was beating at about 100 mph and my palms were starting to sweat. Wordlessly, Derek guided me to sit in his computer chair and hovered over me as soon as I complied.

"What do you know?" he asked, sounding strangely calm.

"Nothing," I squeaked out, leaning backwards. Derek chuckled. Guilt and fear were surely written all over my face.

"Really, Casey. Do you think that you can hide it from me?" Derek said mockingly. "This is _my_ house, _my_ domain. Nothing gets by me," he bragged, placing his hands on the arms of the chair on either side of me. I snorted.

"Obviously not, or you wouldn't be interrogating me," I sniped. He scowled at me as I smiled triumphantly. "Which, might I add, is a waste of time because you'll _never_ get me to spill," I added stubbornly, trying to ignore the knot that was tightening in my stomach. Did he have to stand so close? I was already nervous and his proximity was making me uncomfortable.

"I don't have to. All I have to do is ask the right questions and you'll give it away," Derek replied, smirking arrogantly. My face fell for a second. He was right. _Wait a minute. He'll _never_ guess _this_ one._ With that realization, I laughed. For once—_I_ was going to come up the winner.

"Too bad the chance of you asking the right questions is about one in a million," I said smugly. Derek laughed.

"What? Is this all about some dark, shameful secret?" Derek asked sarcastically, clearly amused. I tried not to react, but I somehow gave it away because his expression changed to one of suspicion and interest. I gasped for air, just realizing that I had been holding my breath. _So that's how he knew._ The corners of his mouth turned up in a cocky grin. "So, Miss Polly Preppy Pants has a deep, dark secret," he assumed, looking much like the cat who just caught the canary.

"You'd love that, wouldn't you," I sneered, feigning anxiety—hoping to steer him in the wrong direction.

"Naturally—but I can tell from the look on your face that it's not _your_ secret," Derek stated matter-of-factly. I huffed with annoyance. "You know, Case, you _really_ ought to work on your lying. It's an important skill in life," he chided, shaking his head with disappointment.

"Not all of us can be so well-practiced. _Some_ of us were cursed with these nasty little things called 'moral standards' and 'consciences'," I jeered. Derek rolled his eyes.

"Both of which are highly overrated," he commented nonchalantly. "Now, about this secret…" Derek trailed off. I started panicking. He was way too close for comfort—and not just physically.

"You know what? I _refuse_ to be bullied like this!" I objected, shoving him backwards and standing up. I surprised Derek and his butt hit the floor with a satisfying—to me—thump. Sulking childishly, he brushed himself off and leaned against the door. I rolled my eyes and crossed the room to stand in front of him, waiting impatiently for him to give up and move aside. He stood, eyes narrowed.

"I _will_ find out," Derek guaranteed, crossing his arms. I sighed.

"Trust me when I say that you don't want to," I murmured exasperatedly as I brushed roughly past him. Thankfully, he let me go.

The smart thing would have been to have gone straight to Edwin and Lizzie and find out where we stood. However, I knew that the secret was safe—so to speak—and decided instead to call up a trusted friend.

* * *

"Don't you dare say 'I told you so'," I warned. 

"What? Is this Casey?" Lauren asked, clearly confused. I sighed. Lauren and I had been friends ever since she borrowed my notes in Music Appreciation at the beginning of the school year.

"Yes."

"And _why_ would I be saying, 'I told you so'?"

"Promise first," I insisted.

"I promise not to say it," Lauren consented. I paused, waiting for her to say the whole thing. She sighed with exasperation. "You know, being a lawyer's daughter doesn't entitle you to act like one." I laughed and rolled my eyes. "I promise not to say, 'I told you so'. Happy?"

"No, but I'm satisfied with your response," I quipped, prompting my friend to chuckle. I took a deep breath, preparing myself for the confession. "Derek has a crush on me," I blurted out unceremoniously. I could hear Lauren fall out of her chair over the line. "Lauren? Lauren, are you okay?" I asked, listening for any indication of an answer. The sound of ruffling papers and a clang against metal—probably the metal of her computer chair—filled my ears.

"What did you just say?" Lauren asked with disbelief.

"Are you sitting on the floor?" I inquired.

"Yes, why?"

"I don't want to risk you falling out of your chair again," I answered. She huffed indignantly. "Derek has a crush on me," I repeated in compliance. "Why are you so surprised anyway? You've been telling me that for months," I reminded her.

"Well, yeah," Lauren retorted with amusement. "I just never thought that you'd believe it," she explained. "What great event made you privy to this information?"

"Are you making fun of me?" I asked, holding back a laugh.

"Yes. Why?"

"Just verifying." Lauren laughed and I filled her in about recent events.

"You know, it's brothers and sisters like yours that make me glad that I'm an only child," she said in all seriousness.

"Tell me about it." I rolled my eyes in annoyance. If Edwin and Lizzie weren't always sticking their noses in other people's business, then I would never have found out about Derek. "So what should I do?" I asked helplessly.

"Well, how do you feel?"

"Are you kidding me?" Her lack of response told me that she wasn't. "Lauren, he's my _stepbrother_."

"So? It's not like you're really related," she pointed out.

"It would never be socially acceptable," I argued.

"Who cares?" Lauren replied casually. "You shouldn't base your decisions on how you think other people will react." That hit home. She was right—not that it mattered. Derek and I weren't compatible. Derek's feelings were probably based on the fact that I was the one girl—with no true relation—that he could never have. "And don't think that I didn't notice that you still haven't answered my question." I sighed.

"Lauren, you know how I feel about Derek already."

"Then why do you keep dodging?"

"I'm not dodging!" I insisted fervently. "I just don't like repeating myself," I added more calmly.

"Indulge me," Lauren requested.

"I care about him in a non-romantic way!" I answered.

"Not in a brotherly way?" Lauren inquired curiously.

"Well, not exactly, but—stop smirking!" I just knew that she was. She thought that she'd caught me. "Look, the fact that I don't really think of him as a brother doesn't imply that I think of him as a potential boyfriend."

"So what is he to you?"

"He's—" I searched for the right explanation. He wasn't really like family, but I wouldn't exactly call him a friend either. "I don't know! He's…_Derek_!" I exclaimed with frustration. Lauren laughed. "It's not funny!" I chided.

"Of course not," Lauren mocked.

"You know, you never answered _my_ question about what I should do," I reminded him.

"Sorry, Case, but I don't know," Lauren replied.

"How does that help me?"

"It doesn't. Look, I got to go, but keep me posted. See you later." The click followed by the dial tone told me that she'd hung up. I turned off the phone and threw it onto my bed.

"Lousy, no good…" I muttered.

"You really shouldn't insult yourself, Case." I whirled around to see Derek leaning with his back on my door. I hadn't even heard him come in. "That's my job," he added with a smirk.

"How long have you been standing there?" I demanded, heart thudding in my chest as I realized that he could've heard some potentially incriminating things—depending on how long he'd been in the room. Creeping closer in a disturbing manner, he grinned evilly.

"Oh…long enough," he answered vaguely. I panicked and then caught myself. It was entirely possible—probable even—that he hadn't heard _anything_.

"Hear anything interesting?" I asked, mockingly plopping down on my bed, crossing my legs, and leaning my arm on my knee—propping my chin on my hand.

"Plenty," Derek replied, coming closer.

"Like…?" I prompted him, knowing that he had _nothing._ He only drew it out this long when he was bluffing. His face fell as he realized that I was on to him and he sighed.

"All right, all right. I didn't hear anything. But I clearly _could_ have heard something of interest," Derek said, trying to turn the tables on me. I laughed.

"Congratulations, Derek. You _almost_ got something on me. What an accomplishment!" I quipped sarcastically. "What do you want?"

"To know what's going on," Derek answered. I gave him a skeptical look.

"Interrogating the same person twice in less than an hour? You're losing your touch, brother dearest," I mocked him. _Brother. He _is_ your brother…sort of…not really…but isn't that how you should think of him?_

"Actually, _Sis_, I wanted to ask if I could borrow your A-Teens CD," He replied. My eyebrows shot up. Surely there was some kind of angle.

"Why?" I asked, full of suspicion.

"I have my reasons," Derek retorted with a dark glint in his eye. Suddenly I just wanted him out of my room—and out of my life, if possible—so I just handed it to him. "Thanks. Later, Case," he answered in a strange tone—like he was plotting something. I didn't ask him what it was­—I just watched him walk out and close the door behind him. _Why do I have the feeling that I may have just contributed to my own undoing?_

* * *

For the next hour, Derek blasted my A-Teen's CD in his room and I could've sworn that I heard someone begging him to turn it off, but I chalked it up to my imagination. _Or, maybe I've finally snapped. Maybe Derek's crush on me was the straw that broke the camel's back._

But then, five minutes later, the music was abruptly turned off.

"I knew it!" Derek shouted triumphantly. My curiosity was piqued, so I walked to the door and opened it just in time to see Derek running towards Lizzie's room with the younger sibling hot on his heels.

"Lizzie! Lizzie! He _knows_!" Edwin shouted, his voice high and strangled by fear. Lizzie opened her door—which was a big mistake—and Derek barreled past her, into her room. Edwin followed and I did the same. I walked in and found Derek rifling through Lizzie's top drawer.

"Derek, what are you _doing_?" I asked incredulously. But then he pulled out the binder. My heart leapt in my chest. "No," I breathed, realizing that I had been lied to. The binder hadn't been destroyed. _But surely they destroyed the Dasey file…or at least put it elsewhere_. But the panic on both of their faces didn't give me much hope. I was too shocked to register Derek brushing past me, let alone try to stop him. It was only when I heard him close his door that I snapped out of it and ran after him, standing helplessly in front of the door.

"It's too late, Casey," Lizzie told me, placing a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. I whirled around on her.

"Why didn't you destroy it?" I demanded angrily. Lizzie grabbed my hand and I reluctantly followed her back into her room.

"It was my fault," Edwin admitted, overhearing the question. "I couldn't bear to lose all of our hard work," he explained pathetically. I glowered at him.

"Tell me that you at _least_ put the Dasey file somewhere else," I replied, trying not to sound as desperate as I felt. He cringed, smiling nervously. "You know, for someone so smart, you're really dumb sometimes, Edwin," I snapped. He hung his head in shame.

"Hey, it's not all his fault," Lizzie said defensively. I turned my glare on her and she shut her mouth quickly, looking scared.

"How did he find out?" I asked.

"I told him," Edwin admitted ashamedly. My expression changed to one of shock at his betrayal. "He tortured me!" He cried in his own defense. "I couldn't listen to 'Dancing Queen' any longer!" I laughed at the irony. Not only had I been right earlier—but one of my favorite songs had been used to destroy me. Lizzie and Edwin looked at me with fear. They probably thought that I'd cracked. _Oh no. That would be too convenient_. I wasn't that lucky and I knew that_ my_ torture had only just begun.

* * *

I was in my room, reading a book—or hiding, depending on how you looked at it—when I heard Derek yell in a very unmanly fashion. In fact, it wasn't really a yell—but more of a scream. 

"Edwin, I am going to _kill_ you!" Derek yelled as he ran out of his room and down the stairs. Edwin's _very_ girly scream—followed by the sound of him begging and Derek pulling someone upstairs—told me that Derek had caught the runt.

By the time my conscience had caught up with me—it was too late. Derek had Edwin in his room with a chair wedged under the doorknob. So I went back to my room and picked up my book again, chastising myself for not attempting to help my younger sibling as soon as I heard Derek yell his name.

On the bright side, Derek was obviously calm enough to control himself. I could tell because, instead of shouting, he was being quiet enough to keep anyone else from hearing anything. I had even tried listening at the door a few times, but I hadn't gotten anything. Still, I took it as a good sign. For one thing, surely I would have heard something if he were killing Edwin­—or even just beating on him—and, for another, maybe he had just overreacted at first. Maybe we could all laugh about it afterward.

_Yeah right_. _You don't actually believe that garbage, do you?_ I sighed. No, there wasn't going to be any laughter or joking about our precarious situation. But I did have the feeling that there just might be tears.


	4. Cat and Mouse

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Life with Derek or any of its characters. Neither do I own "Cat and Mouse" by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus.

* * *

**Curiosity Killed the Cat**

_Chapter 4 - Cat and Mouse_

After dinner, Mom pulled me aside and told me that she'd like to talk. I acquiesced and she followed me up to my room.

"Casey, you seem a bit distracted lately," she expressed with concern. "Is something bothering you?" I took a deep breath, wanting desperately to talk to the woman who had been my attentive confidante for as long as I could remember. What would she think?

"You can trust me," she assured me. I smiled nervously and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. Then I cleared my throat and prepared what I was going to say.

"Mom…Derek has a crush on me," I confessed, feeling as if I had carried a boulder a long way and it had suddenly been lifted away. My mother chuckled.

"Oh, Casey, where did you get such a silly idea?" she asked--sounding as if she wasn't really surprised at all. I patiently and meticulously described my investigation and findings—leaving out nothing. Then I told her about Derek finding out and waited for her response.

"Well," she started. A moment of silence passed between them. "I guess we have no choice then," she finished ominously.

"What…what are you talking about?" I asked nervously as my heart fluttered in my chest.

"We have to have him committed." My jaw dropped. She couldn't be serious.

"But, Mom, isn't that a little extreme? I don't think it's crazy to have romantic feelings for your stepsibling. I mean, the situation is far from ideal, but surely it seems within reason," I replied defensively. Derek was self-centered, rude, sometimes cruel, and even used people to get his way…but he wasn't crazy. A look of confusion crossed my mother's face and then she suddenly went pale.

"You love him back," she whispered fearfully.

"What? No! I—"

"I'm sorry about this, Casey, but it's for your own good." As my mother rose from the bed, men dressed in white spilled through my door, looking angry and stern. They grabbed my arms and pulled me towards the wide-open doorway as a doctor approached Mom and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Mom! Mom, don't let them take me away! I don't want Derek!" I cried, digging my heels into the carpet—scrambling to keep my captors from dragging me out the door. Then they pulled out a straightjacket and tried to ensnare me with it.

"Don't worry," the doctor reassured Mom. "We'll take good care of your daughter, Nora. With the proper medication, psychoanalysis, and a little shock therapy," I gasped and fought harder, "we might be able to get your daughter back." Mom nodded as I was pulled out of sight.

"Mom! Please! Mom!"

* * *

Gasping, I shot up in bed with my heart pounding against my ribs. It had all been a dream--the binder, Derek's crush, and the straightjacket--right? Throwing the covers off of myself, I decided that I had to find out for sure. 

So, I ventured into the hallway, heading for Lizzie's room. I felt really badly about waking her up in the middle of the night, but it was an emergency. I _had_ to know the truth and my poor sleep-deprived brain was too addled to figure it out without help.

But as I passed my stepbrother's door, it swung open and nearly missed whacking me in the head.

"Hey! Watch it," I growled angrily, glaring at a half-asleep Derek.

"Oh, s-sorry, Casey," he stuttered, anxiously brushing past me and disappearing into the bathroom. I stared at the closed door in shock. Derek _stuttering_? Then I heard the sound of retching coming from the room my stepbrother was occupying. Wrinkling my nose in disgust, I felt a pang of sympathy for the poor guy and walked back to my room.

As I pulled the covers up under my chin, it hit me--stuttering, vomiting, and running away. Derek was _freaking out_. When D-Rock played in "Clash of the Bands", Derek threw up, stumbled over his speech, and tried to talk the rest of the band out of the gig. Whenever Derek had a big hockey game, he did the exact same thing.

He was panicking because he knew that I had found out about his crush on me. My own stomach churned. _Hello, Casey, and welcome to your own personal hell._

* * *

For the next four days, Derek and I avidly avoided each other. The second our eyes met in a room or hallway, one or both of us turned and dashed in the other direction. It was only at the dinner table that we silently agreed to come within five feet of each other--and it was only because we had no other choice. 

"Casey, Derek, what's going on with you two?" Nora asked suspiciously. My fork slipped right out of my fingers, clattering to the plate below.

"Nothing," we replied simultaneously in panicky, high-pitched voices. Our heads snapped up from our plates--where they'd focused on at every family meal for the past four nights--and his brown eyes pierced into my blue ones. My face flushed under the intensity of his gaze and I looked away. It wasn't like I had feelings--as if--for him or anything. He just made me nervous.

Our parents looked back and forth between us and--though they tried to disguise it--we had the full attention of Lizzie and Edwin as well. Marti was the only family member who seemed completely disinterested in what was going on.

"All right, you two. I want to know what happened and I want to know now," George demanded strictly. No one spoke. "Well, since you two obviously need some quality time together to sort whatever it is out, you're both grounded."

"But, Dad--"

"No buts!" George responded firmly.

"Mom, this is so unfair!" I complained, appealing to her.

"Sorry, Casey, but I agree with George."

"I've lost my appetite," I announced bitterly, dropping my knife as I scooted away from the table.

"Casey!" As I ran up to my room, I ignored my mother's calls--refusing to feel guilty.

* * *

"What am I going to do, Lizzie?" 

"You mean be_sides_ treading a hole in your carpet?" she asked. I stopped pacing and glared at her.

"Thanks, Liz. Real supportive." She sighed.

"You _could_ just keep avoiding each other," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but we can only keep this up for so long. How long is it going to take to get past this anyway?" I gasped. "What if Derek _never_ gets over me? I mean, he's already liked me for so long. If he hasn't lost interest by now, who's to say that he _ever_ will?" My voice rose higher and higher as panic flooded my brain.

"Woah, Casey, stop," Lizzie commanded softly. She grabbed my arm and pulled me to sit down next to her. "Now take a deep breath," I complied, "and slowly exhale." I did as she instructed and closed my eyes as I repeated the exercise.

"Thanks, Liz. I needed that." I smiled at her and she nodded in agreement. Then I frowned. "So what do I do now?"

"I don't know. Wait it out?" she suggested.

"I guess. Thanks for listening to me rant like a crazy person, Lizzie."

"What are sisters for?" I pulled her into a hug, brimming with sisterly love.

* * *

The next morning, on the way to the bathroom, I was almost hit--once again--by Derek's door flying open. 

"_Der_-ek!" I yelled in annoyance. "You almost hit me." He swung the door closed behind him, turned to me and smirked. I could tell from his tousled hair that he had _literally_ just rolled out of bed.

"And…?"

"Be more careful!" I reprimanded. What was with his sudden change of mood? This was the first time we'd run into each other since the binder incident that he hadn't frozen in his tracks like a deer in headlights and then run away--if you didn't count family dinners.

"Will do," Derek replied cheerfully, looking rather smug--though I had no clue why.

"Um, okay…" I trailed off, heading towards the shower. I didn't know _what_ was going on, but I had a feeling that things were about to get interesting.

* * *

"Casey, phone!" Crossing to the door, I opened it to see Edwin standing in the hall. I silently looked him over, checking for any signs of bruising or physical harm--inflicted by Derek, of course. Smiling, I found none. 

"Thanks, Ed." My stepbrother handed the phone to me, glanced at Derek's door with trepidation, and quickly ran back up to his room.

"Hello?" Deciding to follow Edwin's example, I briskly walked back into my own room and shut the door after me.

"Hey, Casey! How are things with _Derek_?" Lauren teased. I rolled my eyes.

"This isn't some big joke, Lauren. This is serious. People are going to get hurt," I reprimanded her. She laughed.

"Don't be such a drama queen," she poked. "Honestly, how bad could it be?" I told her about my nightmare where Mom had me taken away. "Oh, Casey, your parents wouldn't have you and Derek committed just because you have feelings for each other," Lauren assured me.

"_If_ we had feelings for each other. Derek may have--"

"Does have," she interrupted. I huffed angrily and continued."

"--_feelings_ for me, but I certainly don't have any romantic notions about him."

"Casey, are you even _listening_ to yourself? In your dream you not only defended Derek's feelings for you, but said that the situation wasn't as bad as Dream-Mom was making it sound." My gut twisted painfully. "The fact that Derek is your stepbrother doesn't stop you from wanting to be with him."

"But I _don't_ want to be with him!" I protested vehemently. Why was everyone accusing me of liking Derek?

"Are you sure?" Lauren asked sincerely. I was about to reply that of course I was, but then I stopped to think about it. Sure, he was inconsiderate, self-absorbed, and went out of his way to annoy me…but he could also be very sweet--like when he called my dad to come back and see me after that awful dinner fiasco.

Shaking my head, I silently reprimanded myself. _I_ knew that I didn't feel that way about Derek and no one else was going to persuade me of otherwise. If I let people sit there and _tell_ me how I felt, I could actually end up changing my feelings. And that was _not_ going to happen.

"I'm sure."

"Okay. So what did you get for question thirty-two in our packet?_  
_

* * *

_I can't wait for school to start_. It was the last day of summer. Tomorrow I'd get to see Emily and Lauren, get away from Derek, _and_ get out of the house. Since George had grounded Derek and I, I couldn't even seek refuge at the library. So, I had gone back to hiding in my room. 

I was checking over my summer reading packet--unable to get it off of my mind since Lauren and I went over part of it earlier--when someone knocked on my door.

"Come in," I called distractedly. When I heard my door open, I didn't even bother to look up. My mystery guest was silent, however, so I was forced to look away from my homework to find out who it was and what they wanted.

To my astonishment, standing before me was my stepbrother, smirking as always--as if he knew something that I didn't.

"What do you want, Derek?" I asked with annoyance leaking into my voice.

"To stop brooding and sulking like I'm some damn Emo kid," Derek answered. I blinked in confusion. What did that mean?

"Could you be more specific?" I requested. Then he leaned over me--a habit of his that I wasn't particularly fond of--and I pressed myself into my desk chair.

"I'm going after what I want," he replied vaguely as his eyes twinkled mischievously. _Uh-oh. Why was I getting the strange feeling that he was talking about _me?

"Which would be…?"

"Oh, come on, Case. I know all about Lizzie and Edwin's little research project." He grimaced as he said their names--obviously still upset with them. "And I know that you do too." I swallowed the growing lump in my throat. "Now that you know how I feel about you, there's nothing left to lose." Derek's eyes scanned my body and he grinned appreciatively. "But I think there just might be something to gain that will make this all worth it." The predatory gleam in his eyes made my stomach clench and I suddenly felt desperate to get away from him.

"In your _dreams_, Ventur_i_," I growled angrily, shoving him away from me. Taking a moment to observe me, he laughed. _Stupid, arrogant jerk._

"You haven't realized it yet, have you, Case?" Derek asked with a grin.

"Oh, I realized that you disgust me a _long_ time ago," I snapped.

"I don't disgust you, Case," he said quietly--still looking sure of himself. "The fact that I want to be with you doesn't even make you cringe. It just makes you nervous." Stepping closer, he added, "You _wish_ that I disgusted you." Panic flooded my body as I realized that he was right. He _didn't_ disgust me. Well, not in general. Some of the things he did most certainly disgusted me. But the point was that the idea of Derek and I together wasn't gross.

"Get out." I twirled him around to face the door and pushed him towards the door. The idiot laughed, but he even opened the door himself. I shoved him roughly into the hallway and slammed the door behind him.

Crossing the room, I flopped down onto my bed face first. I buried my head into a soft pillow, relishing the feel of the cool cotton against my skin. Then I screamed as loudly as I could into the fabric, letting myself go limp afterwards. Life with Derek was getting more unbearable every day.

* * *

**A/N:** So, what do you guys think? I'm trying to put in as much Dasey as possible without rushing things. I figure that Casey--conservative as she is--will probably take a while to come around. But the process is bound to speed up with Derek pursuing her.  Oh, if you've seen the trailer that goes with this story, things won't be going that way. Well, not necessarily anyway. I made it long before I even started this, I think. If not, I had no real idea of where this was going (and limited clips) so don't expect it to follow that. It's a cool trailer though, if you want to check it out. Just go to YouTube and look up "sirensong19" and click on the "Who Knew?" video. 

Special note: Thanks so much for all of your awesome reviews! Just so you know, like most authors, when I see that kind of positive response, I tend to update faster. I was actually _determined_ to finish this chapter today so I could get it out to you guys. Hope you liked it!


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